Maybe You're My Saving Grace
by lennysheartlocket
Summary: Jo Wilson is what you'd call damaged goods. She's been hurt, let down and abused enough times to know she's better off alone. Alex Karev is a juvenile delinquent and the definition of a lost cause. He brings with him a troubled past and a bad boy facade. When they meet, they don't realize the impact they'll have on each other. At least, not yet anyway. AU.
1. part one

_I've been working on this for a long time. It's basically an AU where Jolex meet each other as teens in the foster care system. I swear, all my ideas go back to this pairing these days. Other Grey's characters will be in this, but some of them won't act like their adult selves - I based everyone off what I think their teenage self might've been like. (So for example, yes there will be some black-wearing, pink-haired Meredith in later chapters.) Also, please note this is rated M, for language, possible sexual themes, and mentions of past abuse. _

_Alright, let's get this first disclaimer out of the way - I'm not Shonda. Grey's isn't mine. Please don't sue me. Thanks. _

* * *

**part one;**

She has been living with the Webber's for two years, five months, and twenty-six days.

Yes, she's been counting. It's not because she doesn't like the Webber's – sure they're always too busy to really notice her, but it's not like she cares, because she's been stuck with people a lot worse than Richard Webber and Miranda Bailey. Whenever she goes to a new foster home, which she's done multiple times, she keeps track of how long she's there. This is the longest she's been with one family for several years. There were the Stewart's, who lasted two years, one month, and fifteen days. There were the McGinty's, who followed at two years and four days, while the Young's were a year, eleven months, and eighteen days she'd rather forget. The Crawley's took the award from her shortest stay, because she was only there for a week. And those were just a few of the most recent ones. Most of the foster parents she had were just blurry faces in the back of her mind, a number the only thing she remembered them by.

There are twelve kids living in the house. She's stayed at foster homes who have had more, but this is still a fairly big number. They forget about Jo most of the time, because she didn't say much and usually stayed out of trouble. Life there is hectic, always loud, always noisy, something always going on.

She's never gotten close to any of them though, not really. She's learned from her time in the foster care system that it's easier to not get attached. In the end, everyone always leaves, nothing's ever permanent. Even her own mother didn't stick around. So, she told herself it was better this way. No fuss, no muss.

The closest person to Jo is probably her roommate, a girl named Lexie who is really pretty and a year or two older than her. Lexie seems nice enough, and she tries to be friendly, but they both know they're not going to be best friends or anything. Lexie's not the kind of person Jo would want to hang out with - she's always reading something, and she's a little too nice, you know. But what Jo really admires about Lexie is her photographic memory. That girl could recite the freaking periodic table. Jo had always secretly found it really cool. She was able to do almost any math mentally herself, but she'd never actually told anyone that. Two hundred and fifty-six times eight hundred and seventy-five? Two hundred and twenty-four thousand. One thousand two hundred and five plus one hundred eighty-seven? Thirteen ninety-two. Nine hundred eighty-two divided by six hundred fifty-one? One point five zero eight four four eight five four zero seven zero six six one. Approximately.

So she obviously she has no trouble calculating that she's been living in Richard Webber's house for two years, five months, and twenty-six days. Today, Lexie is lying on her bed, in a pair of jeans and a top with a hole under one armpit, talking to a perky redhead she doesn't remember the name of (Anna? Abby? Something with an A.) She walks into the room and sits down on the floor, while the other two girls converse.

She keeps all of her things on the floor in what all the kids call "the official luggage of the foster care system", also known as a trash bag. Inside there's her clothes, an assortment of cheap T-shirts, jeans and shoes, some which no longer fit her. Somehow along the lines she's accumulated at least fifteen toothbrushes, all cheap plastic things in different colors, green and purple and blue. She pulls it out from the bottom of her trash bag - a small calendar, like the kind you could get for free at any bank. She opens it to the current month and crosses off yesterday's date. Two years, five months, and twenty-seven days. Today's date is circled in a fading brown magic marker twice, two rings getting lighter and lighter as they continue.

The redhead smiles at her, just noticing her presence. "Hey Jo."

She forces a smile in response. "Hi..." She trails off, trying to remember her name again. Allie? Andi? God, what was it?

"April was just stopping by to say hi." Lexie explains. She doesn't know if it's because she thought she was curious, or if she could tell she couldn't remember her name. _That's right._ She tells herself now. _April. Her name's April, April Kepner. _

The two girls go back to their conversation. "Why are we getting a new foster kid? Don't we already have like, twenty kids living here?" Lexie asks. April replies she doesn't know.

"Twelve," She cuts in, and Lexie and April turn to look at her. "There's um...twelve."

"Well, I guess thirteen now," Lexie says with a shrug.

_Lucky number thirteen,_ She thinks, and then she wishes she hadn't.

"His name's Alex," April continues. "Alex Evans. Everyone is saying he just got out of juvie."

"What for?" Lexie remarks.

April shrugs. "Nobody knows for sure. I've heard everything from breaking and entering to murder. Some of the guys are taking bets."

Before they can say anything else, she finds herself climbing off the bed, brushing past April and out of the room. "Jo, is everything okay?" Lexie calls after her, but she doesn't reply.

* * *

_She comes into his room in the middle of the night. He notices first the stuffed bear in her arms. She's had Fluffy practically all of her life, and can't be without it for more than a few minutes. When she goes to bed every night, she grips Fluffy like a vice, burying her face into his soft fur. Then, he sees the tears, crystal and pristine, pooling in the corner of her eyes. _

_He climbs out of his bed, approaching his baby sister. "Hey," He whispers to her. "What's wrong, Amb?" _

_Amber's lower lip is jutted out and trembling. "Mommy and Daddy fighting." She says. "Make them stop." _

_They've been doing that a lot recently - fighting. From his room, it's barely audible, but once you get out into the hallway, or if you go into his sister's room since it's right above the kitchen, it's like you're in the middle of a war zone. He scoops her up in his arms and cradles her, before gently laying her down in his bed. He pulls the blankets practically up to her ears, protecting her and Fluffy from the outside world. "I'll be right back." He promises, before leaving the room._

_He checks on Aaron first, who is still fast asleep, his thumb stuck his mouth. It's a habit he should've given up long ago, but no one has the heart to make him stop. Then, he descends the stairs slowly, careful to avoid the creaky step. There's a light on in the kitchen, where he last saw his mother doing the dishes. He can hear a man yelling, which must mean his father's home. Lately he's been going out for most of the night, sometimes leaving even before dinner. He'd always hung out with Bobby and Bulldog - his friends, and yeah, they actually called the one guy Bulldog - but now it's like he's never around. _

_He walks up to the door to the kitchen, but doesn't open it. "I'm sorry!" He hears his mother cry, and he physically flinches when he there's the sound of breaking glass and then a hard smack. "I'm sorry!" His mother repeats, hysterical. _

"_Shut up!" A voice yells, and there's a loud crash, followed by his mother sobbing. Without another thought he bursts into the room. The sight before him is horrific. _

_His mother lies broken on the floor, tears streaming down her face and her whole body shaking from the extent of her crying. Her chestnut colored hair is stained red with her blood, and there's broken glass all over, from the glasses she dropped. _

_He almost doesn't recognize his father at first. Jimmy looms over his wife, a look that is nothing short of evil in his eyes. His hand is raised, as if he's ready to hit her again. There's a bit of blood smeared on his cheek, and it's obvious it's not his own._

_His mother sees him standing there first. "Oh my God, Alex." She gasps between her sobs. "My baby, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry..." She breaks off into hysterical weeping. He doesn't know what she has to be sorry for. _

_Alex feels frozen in his spot as Jimmy approaches him. His clenches his fist as he looks down at him, a glare on his face. He can only stare, and wonder if he's going to kill him. _

_The voice that speaks is not his father. It is twisted, and evil. "This is an adult matter!" He yells, before slamming the door in his face._

* * *

He was never very easily tamed. He always felt the need to move, to do things he wasn't supposed to, even when he was a little boy with no problems bigger than if his mom would read him a bedtime story or how to hide his vegetables at the dinner table. He didn't like to be contained. "You're just like your father." His mother would say, and back then he'd thought that was a good thing. Then she'd shake her head and say a prayer for him. To Saint Jude - the patron saint of lost causes, she'd tease.

If only she knew.

The social worker wants to escort him to the front door, making him feel like he's that little kid again who everyone keeps a close eye on. He shakes his head. "I don't need your help." He snaps at her when she tries to interject, and she sighs and gives in. He doesn't have many things, just a few clothes and some basic necessities. There's a picture of his family too, at the bottom of the bag. It's the only photo he has of them, taken during the simpler times. They were at a birthday party for his grandmother, who has since died. His mom had been having what she'd call a good day - no voices in her head, no delirium, everything in perfect clarity. Amber is just a squirmy baby in their mother's grasp, Aaron a happy toddler with dimples and a big smile. Then there's him, moving around in the shot, restless as ever, his arm wrapped around nothing but a shoulder, because he ripped his father out of the photograph a long time ago. Then, he did not realize that it wasn't normal for your mom to hear voices in her head, or that someday his father would just be a shoulder, only a small portion of a whole person.

The guy who runs the place doesn't come to see him, but a woman does. She introduces herself as Miranda Bailey, Richard Webber's second-in-command. He ignores what she says mostly until she tells him to pay attention. He nods and pretends he is. He doubts she really cares. To her, he's probably just another punk ass kid with a bad attitude and no family, mooching off her boss or boyfriend or whatever the Hell Richard Webber was to her. Though technically, you could say he did have a family, but he didn't see them that way, not anymore. His mother was a nut who had fallen to pieces and left him to fend for himself and his siblings. His father was the sick bastard who had started it all because he cared more about booze, music and drugs than them. That wasn't family, not to him.

He didn't speak to her the whole time she talked, except for once, to correct her. "It's Karev." He says.

The woman looks down at the papers from Social Services and shrugs, crossing Alex Evans out and putting Alex Karev in his place.

* * *

There is a spot in the back of the yard that always goes unnoticed. A quiet spot between the wall and the fence, where they keep the garden hose. Whenever Jo wants to be alone, it's where she goes. She'll sit by herself in the grass, or on top of the hose when the earth is wet from rain or snow. It is a perfect spot, and sometimes, she can make out the rest of the world just above the neighbor's trees. There, no one will think to look for her - not that anyone would come looking anyway. No one ever did.

She opens the calendar again and sighs when she looks at the date. "Happy fifteenth birthday to me." She says to herself. Well, at least she thinks it's to herself.

"Happy birthday," She screams when she realizes she's not alone, jumping in her seat on top of the hose. When she turns to look there's a guy standing there. He looks older than her, he's probably almost eighteen by now. His face is slightly shrouded by a black hooded sweatshirt, but he pulls it down, exposing not only handsome features but a proud smirk that makes her want to punch him in the face. "Sorry." He says. "Did I scare you, princess?"

She glares at him. "No." She says. "And my name is not princess, it's Jo."

"I like princess better." He replies. "I'm Alex, pleasure to meet you, princess."

"Oh," She says, looking at him. "So you're the new guy around here. What did you get into juvie for?"

"I killed a bunch of people," He answers sarcastically.

She raises an eyebrow. "Hmm. Alex Evans, serial killer."

"It's Karev," He corrects her.

She shrugs. "I think jackass suits you better." She replies.

"Whatever you say, princess." He says.

Jo laughs, and stares at him for a second. When April had said the other kids were taking bets on how he'd gotten into juvie, it had made her upset. At first she hadn't known why, but now she thought she got it. Because she didn't know what Alex Evans' - no, Karev, she corrects herself - life has been like. She wonders how he ended up here. Did his mom leave him at a fire station, like hers did? Did he go through life just like her - alone, abused, afraid to get close to people? "Are you seriously this much of a jerk, or this all an act because you're really sensitive and damaged on the inside?"

He sighs and shoves his hands into his pockets. "Do you seriously think I want to spill my secrets to a fourteen year old?"

"Fifteen," She corrects. At least, she's pretty sure. She doesn't know when her exact birthdate was. This was just an estimate. Not that she's going to tell him that.

"Whatever," He says. "Point is, I don't have time to babysit."

She looks at him, giving him a what-did-you-just-say-to-me look. He snorts and walks away.

Okay, she takes it back. He's just an asshole.

* * *

_I hope this was a good first chapter. My plans are for there to be some parallels to the Jolex storylines on Grey's, but only some because this is AU. There will also be several more flashbacks so you can get a better insight into Alex and Jo's pasts. And like I said, there will be many more familiar faces, not just Lexie and April. Thanks for reading!_


	2. part two

_I originally planned to knock out every holiday in one chapter, but then the chapter I wrote before Halloween turned out to be over 3,000 words alone. So, there will be a chapter for Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, and probably New Year's. This story won't be very long, so my plan is to finish it in about January! I think I calculated it would be about seven chapters, give or take. _

_If I owned Grey's, the show would probably center around Jolex, George and Slexie would still be alive, and Meredith and Cristina would be besties again. But, none of that is happening because the show isn't mine._

* * *

**part two; **

Sometimes, she'd think about what it would've been like if she could insert herself into one of the families she stayed with. Jo Stewart would've been on the honor roll, and captain of the girls' track or soccer team. Jo McGinty would've belonged to a large, loud family of Irish Catholics who celebrated every holiday together and had Sunday night dinners. She couldn't even think about how Jo Young would've been, and she wasn't there long enough to discover what Jo Crawley was all about. Jo Webber would be the quiet, introverted girl, who went through life unseen, afraid that if she reached out she'd be hurt. Out of all the girls she'd thought up, Jo Webber was the most like Jo Wilson.

She thinks about this all day on Halloween. She's never been a fan of the holidays - they're really rather depressing when you don't have family to share them with - but she knows that if she had to dress up this year, she'd be someone else. A girl with a family, a girl who was loved, a girl who belonged. That wasn't a costume she could find at any Halloween store.

She's eating lunch by herself when she meets Stephanie Edwards. In her almost three years living at Richard Webber's, no one has ever just walked up to her and introduced themselves like Stephanie does - unless you count her first meeting with Alex Karev in the backyard, which Jo definitely does not.

"Are you going to the Halloween party tomorrow?" Stephanie asks, and Jo shakes her head. Honestly, she hadn't even known there was one.

"I don't have a costume," She lies.

Stephanie, of course, has a solution. She gives her a pair of crudely made, silver, fairy wings. "You can be Tinkerbell."

It wasn't what she wanted to be, but for this year, a fairy will have to do.

* * *

According to Stephanie, the foster kids are trying to start a tradition of throwing secret Halloween parties in the Webber's basement. "They'll be too busy giving out candy to notice we're all gone," She explains. "Plus the basement's sound proof."

Jo dawns the fairy wings Stephanie gave her, and she pulls her hair up into a tight knot on the top of her head. Stephanie is a clown, in an ugly polka dot blouse and too much face makeup. When they arrive at the party, Stephanie does a secret knock on the basement door - too long ones, a short one, and then a long one again. The door is opened ever so slightly by an Asian girl with long black curls and a serious expression. She looks both ways when she sticks her head out. "What's the password, Grumpy?"

"Ummm..." Stephanie says. "Halloween?"

The Asian girl rolls her eyes, but lets them in anyway when someone from inside yells 'Who's at the door?'. "I don't know, I didn't invite them," The Asian girl tells her friend, a blonde with pink streaks in her hair and a cigarette between her fingers.

The blonde pulls out a lighter and lights up. "Nice costumes," She says sarcastically as the Asian girl lets Jo and Stephanie in. The blonde takes the first puff from her cigarette, and she blows smoke in all their faces.

Stephanie leads her downstairs and into the basement. There's a few stolen Halloween decorations hanging from the ceiling, and no furniture other than a table, unless you count the washer and dryer that some kids are sitting on. Someone's put out all the food they could get, a bag of those miniature candy bars and some drinks. Everyone is simply standing around and talking, drinking fruit punch spiked with rum out of cups that don't match.

Now, Jo understands the sarcasm behind the blonde's comment. "I thought you said everyone was going to be in costume!" She whispers to Stephanie.

"That's what they told me!" They're some of the only people in the room who tried to dress up, except for a few of the other younger kids, who were obviously tricked as well. Some of the older kids snicker and whisper when they see Jo and Stephanie, all of them in their T-shirts and jeans while everyone else makes a fool of themselves.

Stephanie's friends spend most of the night standing in the corner, talking and drinking the punch and rum mixture. There's a girl in a too small top who is supposed to be a cowgirl, and another who is dressed up as a mouse. There's a boy who has tied a black ribbon around his forehead and called himself a ninja.

They all seem nice, they really do, but Jo finds herself beginning to zone out about half an hour into their conversation. Stephanie pops a piece of candy into her mouth, and then offers one to Jo. Watermelon. She shakes her head and says no thanks.

Around her, everything is getting louder as everyone gets drunker. There's more smoke in the room as more people light up their cigarettes, and it becomes harder for her to breathe. She wants to get out of there, she needs air. She needs to be alone. It's only when you're alone that you're truly safe.

"Hey, you made it." The voice of the smoking blonde catches her attention, rising above the rest of the noise like the smoke from her cigarette. When Jo turns her head, she sees the blonde greeting someone at the door - a nearly eighteen year old with a hoodie and handsome features but, tonight, no smirk. She suddenly feels something in the pit of her stomach, an ache, a churn. And when their eyes lock, for the briefest moment she feels like someone is looking right into the depths of her soul, like someone can see her for everything she truly is. And it scares the shit out of her.

* * *

_He is surrounded by painted faces, fake smiles and ugly scowls and blood dripping. Underneath the masks, his parents' friends are laughing and talking as they have cigarettes and booze it up, and the air is thick with smoke and the stench of alcohol. He shoves through the throng of people, not bothering to stop when one mask or the other says hello and tries to make a comment about how big he's gotten or how they love his costume. _

_He finally finds his mother, barely recognizable with all the makeup and fake hair she's put on. The skirt of her dress is so big and long people keep stepping on it as they walk past. Amber - the princess to their mom's queen - is sitting on the counter in a baby green dress, swinging her legs and back and forth. Aaron is at the table, a Spiderman stuffing Hershey kisses into his mouth. _

_And much to his horror, he sees his father, dressed as Superman, freaking _Superman_. A Lex Luthor or Doomsday costume would be much more fitting. His mother adjusts his father's cape, telling him how handsome he looks and it makes him want to actually puke. _

_When his mother turns to look at him, she acts like nothing's wrong, like they're the perfect family on Halloween. "Why Alex," She says. "Don't you make a handsome superhero," He fidgets, and pulls on his costume. He hates these tights. While he'd been excited when he first got his Batman costume, now he looks at his father, and feels almost physically ill when he thinks about how his and his father's costumes are connected to each other. _

_"You look great, kiddo." Jimmy says, and he has the audacity to _smile_ at him. Alex looks away, unable to meet his father's eyes. "When are you taking us out?" He asks his mother. He can't be around his father for another minute, or he thinks he'll lose it. _

_Her face falls, but then she snaps back. After all, a queen always keeps up appearances, never letting the kingdom know what's wrong. "I'm sorry, honey." She says. "But, your father will take you." Alex locks eyes with his father, who is giving him a reassuring look, as if to say 'Everything's fine, I'm not a wife beater, just relax'. _

_He is about to protest when Amber speaks up. "Mommy," She says innocently. "Why is there blood on your neck?"_

_Immediately, their mother's hand reaches up to her neck, while he and Aaron turn their gazes to the wound in question. Alex spots a patch of dried blood caking her skin, just a small patch she'd probably missed when cleaning her injuries. _

_Their father looks at her too, trying to keep up his facade, yet discreetly gives his wife a look, as if he's telling her not to say anything. "Because it's Halloween, honey." Their mother tells Amber, trying to hide the shaking in her voice. She's terrified. "It's part of my costume." _

_"But you're a queen," Amber replies, not realizing the real reason why their mother is bloody, not noticing her fear. He envies her naïveté. _

_"I'm a scary queen," Their mother insists, tickling Amber's belly and sending her into a flurry of giggles. Aaron laughs too, even though no one is touching him. They are so young, so happy, so innocent. _

_His father says nothing, his face stone cold. "We should probably get going," He says, grabbing Aaron by the arm. Suddenly, his mother stops smiling, like she is terrified she - or worse, one of her children - is going to receive a beating. "You know," Jimmy explains. "Before it gets dark." His mother nods sullenly and lowers Amber from the counter. _

_Right then, he really wishes his costume was real. He wishes he was a real superhero who could swoop in and save his mother. But at the end of the day, it's really just a costume. He doesn't have any powers._

* * *

That was the last Halloween party he ever went to, until today. He stands outside the door to the Webber's basement, feeling like he's frozen in his place. "Ready to go in?" Jackson asks him, his hand already poised to do the first in the sequence of secret knocks. He's not, but he nods anyway.

When Jackson knocks, Cristina opens the door. The swell of noise and smoke behind her practically gives him a flashback. "Come on in, boys." She says, and he silently walks inside.

"Hey," Meredith says, smiling. "You made it." She hugs him and Alex swears her cigarette is going to light his hair on fire. He can picture it now, flames engulfing him, fire spreading, it's red and orange tips hot and burning, everything turning to ashes, the fiery pain turning into a warm glow as he morphs into nothingness...

When he looks down into the basement, she's looking at him. The girl from the backyard, Jo. The little fifteen year old who had called him by his father's name. _The princess is dressed like a princess._ He thinks, and when he sees her green dress and fairy wings, he thinks about his sister, wearing a dress of the same hue and a tiara many Halloweens ago, innocently asking their mother why there was blood on her. And all of a sudden, they morph into one person - the little girl and Jo Wilson, becoming one mess of brown eyes and destroyed innocence and irreparable damage.

A question from Jackson interrupts his thoughts. "What?" He asks, forcing himself to tear his gaze away from the younger girl.

"I said," Jackson repeats. "Do you want a drink?"

When he turns back, she's not looking at him anymore, she's talking to a girl with clown makeup. His answer sticks in his throat.

* * *

"What color do you think Jackson Avery's eyes are?"

Jo swallows her drink. The liquor burns her throat, a hot, searing pain that she enjoys. "What?"

"Jackson Avery," Stephanie repeats dreamily, like she's in a trance. "Do you think his eyes are blue, or green? Or both?"

"Who?" Jo asks, and Stephanie, annoyed, nods towards a guy with a gorgeous face and shaved head on the stairs. He leans up against the stairwell wall, a cup in his hands, talking.

"I honestly don't know," Jo simply says. "Who cares what color his eyes are anyway?"

"I do," Stephanie retorts. She pauses, looking over at her three friends, who are engrossed in a conversation. "Come with me when I talk to him." She says to Jo.

"Me?" She asks, incredulous. "No way, you go talk to him."

"Please, Jo!" Stephanie says, practically begging. "Please, please! I promise I'll pay you back someday!"

With a sigh, Jo looks back towards where Jackson Avery is standing. He takes a sip of his drink, surveying the room. "Fine," She gives in, and Stephanie squeals.

The two girls walk over together, Stephanie pestering Jo to tell her how her hair looks. She responds that she looks fine without looking. They're halfway towards the stairwell when all of a sudden Jackson Avery smiles at someone, and he shows up.

Jo's feels like someone's knocked the wind out of her when Alex appears next to Jackson, and the two of them start to talk. "Oh no," She mumbles, and it's supposed to be to herself, but apparently Stephanie hears, because she asks what's wrong. "This isn't a good idea," Jo says. "We have to go back."

"Why?" Stephanie asks. "We're almost there. Are you okay?"

Jo is about to lie and says she feels ill - which, technically isn't a lie, because the closer she gets to Alex Karev the more the butterflies in her stomach flutter, and she feels like she might throw up all of the punch. But then his head turns, and it's too late. He's seen her, he knows she's walking over.

"Hi," Stephanie says nervously, looking from Jackson to Alex and back again. "I'm Stephanie, this is my friend Jo."

"Hi," Jackson says, politely but his uncomfortable feeling still evident. He looks past Stephanie's head - at a redhead she recognizes as April Kepner, who is chatting up Stephanie's male friend, the ninja - "I'm Jackson. This is Alex." Jo hears him say something else but she doesn't look at him, because she swears it's like a magnetic force is making her look at Alex. He's watching her too, his expression neutral, his jaw set.

At first she doesn't realize what's happening until Stephanie and Jackson are brushing past them. She turns around quickly. "Wait, where are you going?" She calls after them, but Stephanie waves her question off and continues to walk away.

Jo turns back around to look at him, and he smirks at her. It's half-hearted, but it's a smirk, nonetheless. "Nice to see you again, princess."

She snorts. "Shut up, jerk."

He grins, and takes a sip of his drink. "If you didn't want me to call you princess, then maybe it wasn't such a good idea to wear a princess costume."

She instinctively reaches back to touch the end of her wings. The corners are slightly pointed, and a piece of wire that has poked out from under the fabric pricks her finger. "I didn't pick this," She explains. "My friend gave it to me."

"The clown?" Alex asks, laughing. "How'd you meet her, anyway? I wouldn't have pegged her for your type."

"I don't have to marry her," Jo retorts. "How do you know my type anyway?"

"Oh, I can read you like a book." He replies. She thinks about the look he was giving her earlier, when he first arrived, and the weird feeling she'd got. She doesn't understand how some guy she just met can claim to know her so well - or how she can feel like maybe he actually does. They've only talked once, and he was an ass to her. How does he know what she's like?

"Well I didn't peg Jackson for your type," She says, acting unfazed. "Or those girls either."

"Who, Mer and Yang?" He asks. "You were watching me, then?" _You were looking at me too. _She wants to say, but the words don't come out. "Jackson's my roommate," Alex continues. "And Meredith and Cristina..." He trails off and shrugs, deciding not to say what he'd originally been planning to. "They just get me I guess."

"They must be very intuitive to see past this facade of yours," She replies. She doesn't know why she says it. Maybe it's because if he gets to think he knows her so well, she wants to know him too. Maybe she wants him to feel as naked and exposed as she did when he looked at her like he could actually she past her walls. And maybe, just maybe, she was thinking what it would be like to hurt someone, instead of being the one who gets hurt. But only maybe.

He's quick though - he's not divulging any secrets. He keeps the upper hand, and that scares her, because she hates not being in control. When someone has control over her, that's when the bad things happen. "Who said it was a facade?" He says.

A reply is on the tip of her tongue when all of a sudden the door to the basement is thrown open. Miranda Bailey is standing in the doorway, looking angry, while Richard Webber appears behind her, shocked. The whole room suddenly goes quiet. Laughter ceases. Booze stops being poured. The blonde - Meredith - drops her cigarette onto the floor and stomps it out with her boot.

"What is going on in here?" Richard Webber thunders. No one has an answer for him. "All of you out, now!"

It takes a moment for everyone to get back into motion. Slowly, people shuffle out of the room, trying to keep their heads down and only mumbling quietly to the person next to them. She is frozen in her spot, because Alex Karev hasn't looked away from her the whole time. "Move it," Miranda Bailey barks, and she feels her hand on her arm, yanking her and Alex by their arms and up the stairs. His face never falters, his walls never fall. It's then, looking back at him, that a realization hits her.

Unintentionally, she's become Tinkerbell for the boy who won't grow up.

* * *

_This is totally un-Beta'd, so hope it's okay. Reviews are appreciated, it would make my day!_


End file.
